God's Shadow
by Seraph101
Summary: He is my God. I am happy to shadow his footsteps; willing to forever be his devout follower.
1. Chapter 1

Hello all! This could be just a oneshot, but if readers want more, I would be happy to turn it into a few chapter story. Hope you enjoy it!

I can smell the fires burning under me. The fog and ash caresses my skin. This place is the only home I can remember.

Silent Hill.

How did I get here? I can't even remember that. I can't remember anything before I turned up on the steps of that God-forsaken church.

They call this town Hell. I have grown rather fond of it. It is all at once hauntingly beautiful and terrifying. It sings to me; the rundown buildings, the streets wrapped in fog, even the dull lake. I think I am one of the damned.

When the town is not the in its otherworldly state, I find it calming. Wandering the streets by myself makes me feel less helpless. I found a small apartment on top of a shop to sleep in.

None of that matters when the world transforms though.

I like that side of Silent Hill as well. The buildings creak, the fog rolls in thicker than before, and the hymns of the holy mix with the howls of the sinners.

I am no different than them. When the siren rings, I too succumb to the call of the other world.

I cannot fight with feral deadliness like some of the other creatures can, but I can blend into any shadow. It's a valuable asset; it helps me seek out food, scout enemies, and even catch glimpses of _Him_.

I seek him out. It's foolish, it will be the death of me, but I don't care. Even to hear the harsh sound of metal on metal, to hear his heavy footfalls, to hear the raspy breathing under the helmet…

I've only seen Him once, from a distance. I was close enough to see his white skin, marbled with deep blue veins and the blood of his victims. He is God in this town, and so I worship him.

Is he lonely? Can he talk? What is his true name? The men in the mining suits call him the Bogeyman or Pyramid Head, but it doesn't fit. He is God, and I want to learn his true name.

He haunts my thoughts almost every minute. Am I afraid of him? Of course. He is the executioner of Silent Hill and I am but a sheep.

Do I love my God? Would I follow him to my death willingly?

Yes.

_ Tip Tap. Tap. _

I hate the nurses.

Being trapped in a room with them in the otherworld isn't my idea of a good time. They are walking around blindly, blocking the room's only exit.

Their faces are torn up, bandaged, hollow, beaten in, bloody. Grotesque works of art, perfect bodies with horrific faces. They are bringer of pain and death, luring anyone stupid enough to succumb to their enticing bodies.

_Screeeeech._

My heart leaps to my throat.

_Screeeeech._

It's him. The executioner is right outside.

_Screeeeech._

I freeze as the door just across from my sitting place swings open and bangs on the wall.

Seeing him far away does not compare to him up-close. He is a marble God, splattered and smeared with the blood of sinners.

He drops the great knife and grabs a nurse by the throat. They all crowd around Him, begging Him to take them.

I hate the nurses.

I'm not in full view, but I can hear the feral grunts as He violates them and the sickening snap when their backs break. I am sickened by the thought of Him taking those grotesque beings.

The distraction He caused cleared the door, and with all the wails of pain and snapping bones, I am eager to leave.

I pull my body from the shadows for just a moment, to grab the door handle. A few more seconds, and I can continue to watch my God from afar…

I hear a scraping sound and instantly know it's the great knife. I slowly turn around and gasp in both shock and awe.

The nurse's bodies are bloody, crumpled messes all over the floor. The carpet is quickly soaking up the blood; the pool is almost to my feet.

He stands there like a statue, perfect and dangerous. I can't tell where his eyes are, so I stare at the point of his helmet, which is merely inches from me. My heart is going into overdrive. I can smell the sex, the sweat, and the blood pouring off of him in waves.

He swings the knife in a deadly, sloping arc through the air. Instead of hitting me, it just hits air. I stalk off to a corner, laughing dryly.

"Greetings, Executioner."

To my surprise, he just turns around and blocks the door.

I'm completely fucked, and he knows it.

"You can't stand there forever."

_We shall see little shadow._

His voice is harsh, exotic, terrifying. Everything I hoped it would be.

"You need food too you know."

_Been watching me?_

I don't say anything. How do you tell the Executioner you've been stalking him?

_Planning on killing me little shadow?_

I bark out a laugh. Me, kill the God of this town? How laughable. I am just a sheep to his flock. I follow him; I am silent, unseen, and wholly loyal.

"You will leave. I'm nothing to you."

_I beg to differ. Come out, I will not hurt you._

"You just tried to slice me wide open with that giant knife!" I hiss at him, but materialize none the less. Deep down in the darkest parts of my heart, I know he is not a liar; a murderer maybe, but an honest one.

He just stands there for what seems like lifetimes and stares at me. I cannot rival his beauty. My hair hangs in a long, dull curtain of black grim and filth, obscuring my black eyes and pale grimy face. My clothes are caked in filth, and I can smell the metallic stench of blood on my skin.

_I have not seen you before._

"I keep to the dark places."

He takes a step forward, and I take a step back. It's a dance of death and I am well aware how dangerous this game is.

_You are so like them. Do you belong to that Damned church?_

"No."

He shakes his head and turns around, opening the door.

_You don't belong here._

"You say that, but here I am anyway. Kill me, and we can fix that problem." I offer myself willingly to him. A death by his hand would be the best kind of release.

He just shakes his head again, and then motions for me to go through the door. I pass right by him, tentatively reaching my hand out to his chest. His skin is cold, but not freezing, and damp with sweat. I leave trails through the blood where my fingers touch.

He cringes away from my touch, but it only lasts for a moment. I fly into the hallway, through the streets, and back to my small room. The darkness is waning. The change happens before my eyes, but I am too tired to care. I lay down on my old lumpy cot, not even bothering to wipe the grime away.

_I will see you again little shadow…_

His voice, so angelic to me, resonates in my mind. I am oddly comforted.

I will be meeting the Executioner again. He is my God, and I am his worshipper.


	2. Chapter 2

Wooo! I want to thank everyone who reviewed and favorited this story. You guys rule!

I decided to continue for two reasons. One was because of the positive feedback; the other was because I feel like I didn't give the story an actual ending.

Anyone hoping this is going to be a story where Pyramid Head finds love and what not will probably be very disappointed. Alas, this is a pretty angsty fic.

Also, Xuchilbara is not mine. It is mentioned briefly in the games as another one of Pyramid Head's names.

: D Hope you all enjoy this next installment. Probably only one or two chapters left after this.

---

The town is slowly draining me of what I once was.

I had once been innocent looking; I remember looking rather young. It couldn't have been that long ago…

The days and nights in this town come and go, but time never really passes.

How long ago has it been since I left my own life and to come to this Hell?

As the days pass, I grow darker and the town opens its arms to me like a mother to its child.

My skin grows paler and my eyes are completely blacked out. I wonder; do I look like the nurses? Am I a horrible mockery of twisted perfection? I feel like a corpse; I walk around sure, but I don't want to eat or sleep or breathe.

I feel a bit more helpless as the day's progress. I am becoming something terrible, something meant to punish and purify…

I am unwilling to accept my fate. Even here in this Hell, I am alone. The other dark ones ban together; a horrifying coalition.

I walk the streets of Silent Hill alone and without purpose. Who do I have to punish? What do I have to live for?

If it wasn't for Him, I would have surely given up long ago.

Since our meeting in Alchemilla hospital, I have kept my distance. Watching the Executioner is at times pure bliss, and at times heart-breaking.

Touching his marble skin had deafened all my conscious thoughts; all of my instincts to run. All I had known in those moments where my fingers grazed his skin was want. I was lacking that which could make my existence here bearable.

And every time I realize what can never be, I break. I weep in the darkest, blackest pits of the town. I wail and I scream and I beg for death.

This town doesn't grant me any kind of release though. Only more suffering. More wanting.

What sins had I committed to land me such a horrific fate? I could handle having to go through this town, having to fight for my life to redeem myself for my sins…

But to watch Him walk the streets every day, shrouded in fog and mystery, is too much for me to handle. I can only want, never have. If the town is trying to roughen my heart; beat it into pieces so I can punish without regret, it's doing a damn good job.

I have become a powerful symbol in this town; a symbol of lost hope, a symbol of pure desperation and defeat. The lower beasts hear my wails and cower in the darkness.

Each day the tears spill out of my eyes and I am as powerless to stop them as the sky is as powerless to stop the ash from falling.

---

In the depths of the town, I weep.

I cry until I can no longer see straight; until my nose has a thick stream of mucus running from it. Until my head hurts so bad I just want to bash it in. The sounds of my wails and whimpers aren't pathetic; they are desperate. I scream, I choke, and then I scream again.

It's a horrible existence.

I'm so caught up in my own depression that I don't hear Him. Not until the door is thrown open.

I try my best to stare at Him wide eyed, but all I can manage is a dull half-lidded glance.

"Go away Executioner. I don't feel like playing today."

_Why are you still in this town?_

I wipe my nose on my dirty jacket and choke on a half formed laugh, "Obviously because I love it too much to part. I am bound here."

_Why do you weep? You seem resigned to being bound here. Go vent your frustrations on the Order._

"Why the Hell do you care?" I snap at him, putting as much venom into my tone as I can.

_I live here. I can't get a moments rest with your screaming._

I bring myself to my feet and glance at him, "Rest? The Red God needs rest?"

_You're clever. I have many names; that is just one of them. What do I call you, little shadow?_

"Whatever you want." I don't want Him to call me anything. I don't want to be in His thoughts at all. I don't want to speak with Him. Holding Him at a distance at least makes it easier for me to cope; having Him close just makes loving him harder.

Xuchilbara leans forward ever so slightly and holds His hand, palm up, out to me. I can see the lines in His hands filled with blood and dirt. I'm dreaming, I'm sure of it.

_Come little shadow. _

Before my brain can catch up with my body, my small hand is in His large one.

I feel like fainting. I feel like I'm drowning; crushed underneath waves of relief. I feel like my hand is meant to be in His. I feel foolish for thinking that; it's just too imperfect.

Pure euphoria invades all of my senses and steals the breath away from my lungs.

God is the best drug.

He turns, the great knife swinging out behind Him, and I follow Him into the shadows.

I take one look at our clasped hands and suddenly I don't care where He is taking me. If He can kill me, then He can go ahead.

It would be the best death I could ever hope for.


	3. Chapter 3

Woo! Chapter 3! Only one more after this. Hope everyone enjoys this installment! : D

---

The ground seems to moan in defeat the farther we descend. Not even I have been to this part of Silent Hill.

The Executioner's lair.

God's lair.

He isn't really walking with me; He's dragging me along by my hand. If I wasn't quick, He would be dragging me around like one of his corpses.

It doesn't matter if it's not at all romantic. It isn't His nature to be romantic.

My God is imperfect, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I am so caught up in my musings that I don't realize we are at our destination until He throws me into a dimly lit room.

It's completely bare of all furniture. There is a drain off to one corner that is completely red with blood. The coppery scent invades my senses and makes me want to wretch.

_It's playtime my little shadow._

I stay rooted to the ground near the drain, my back to him. I am a fool! I followed him around for _years _and I actually _believed_ he was capable of compassion. I could feel the bile bubble up in my throat.

I could handle being ignored by the Red God; but being deceived by Him?

The moment his hand touches my shoulder I spin out of his grasp and hide in the shadows.

"It was not a smart move to confront me in the shadows Xuchilbara."

He just stands there in the middle of the room; a horrifyingly beautiful statue. Not even He can see me in the dark.

I have perfected my art.

I shall force God onto his knees. Force _Him_ to lament over what _He_ can never have.

_Isn't this what you wanted my little shadow?_

"We both want something that can never be my dear Executioner. I seek love and you seek lust. Neither of us shall ever be satisfied."

A harsh scream seems to shake the very foundations of the town. The sound is grating; more terrifying than the cries of the damned and the odd moans of the buildings. The horrors of the Otherworld pale in comparison to the feral roar of God.

I let small cry escape my lips. Even now I want nothing more to run and comfort Him. I am doomed to forever love Him; the greatest punishment for my sins.

He turns, the great knife swinging out almost majestically behind Him. He turns his head to the side as if looking over his shoulder.

Outlined in the doorway, He looks vulnerable. Still terrifying, nothing would ever change that…But the marble statue now has cracks.

_I _will _be seeing you again. You are _mine.

He sweeps out of the room, the horrible sound of metal on metal growing fainter and fainter.

When I can no longer hear Him, I weep. Gaining His love is impossible, and I will not settle just being another faceless fuck.

We will exist for the rest of eternity. Forever we shall be at a stalemate, neither of us willing to give any ground.

Even God needs punishment for his sins.

My purpose has become to hurt the one I love most.

My wails echo through the town, perfectly complimenting the low screech of metal.


	4. Chapter 4

A week of staring at the dingy monochromatic walls of my safe haven made me realize how truly foolish I had been.

Mulling over the event brought a few things to my attention.

First: I love Him more than I had originally thought.

Second: He couldn't love me in return. Love isn't something the executioner has a capacity for.

What I hadn't realized before was that he _wants _me. Wants me more than he wants to kill the order soldiers, wants me more than he wants to fuck the nurses…

The third realization I had come to was this: He wants me more than he has ever wanted anything.

To God, want is the equivalent of love.

I deducted that this wanting was unfamiliar territory for Him. He had attempted to show me his trust by bringing me to His domain, and I had thrown his attempt in his face by denying him. I had shattered everything with my misguided refusal.

If I had only figured this out in those brief moments; I could be tasting the marble flesh of God instead of my stale, salty tears.

My only choice is to see Him out and ask for forgiveness.

I had forced Him to His knees and I had dangled that which He most desires right in front of Him, just out of reach.

God may not be compassionate, but perhaps He will forgive His shadow.

-0-

In that week of reflection, I had once again been transformed by the town. Shadows had been solace when I first woke up in this nightmare town; I am now becoming the shadows, bending them to my will.

The streets of Silent Hill are unusually quiet in the ashy dusk. I can't hear the screams of patients, the groans of the old buildings, not even the harsh scrape of the great knife.

Nothing.

I stand in an alleyway off Main Street trying to remember the way to God's lair. I wish I hadn't acted like such a fool around him, or I might actually have some sort of direction right now.

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

Hearing a voice, a _human_ voice, startles me out of my daze.

Hazel eyes widen first in surprise, then in fear as I turn my face to his. I cringe against the bright beam of the newcomer's flashlight. A muttered curse and a slight fumbling around to get the light out of my face lets me know this person is a man. Far too clumsy to be one of the Order.

A victim of this cursed town.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice is young and innocent sounding. I relax and lean against the alleyway wall.

"I should be asking you the same questions." My throat feels like sandpaper and my voice is barely a raspy whisper. Not talking really took its toll on my vocal cords.

I can hear his heartbeat accelerating steadily. I'm surprised he hasn't attacked me yet. I am one of the more human looking monstrosities, but a monstrosity none the less.

"Who are you?" His voice trembles slightly.

"I have forgotten."

"…What are you?"

I find a small smile curling my lips. "I am nothing."

He takes a cautious half-step forward. "Look, my name is Sam. I've been trapped in this town…Well, I don't know how long. Times kinda funny here, you know? I'm trying to get out. Can you help me?"

I push off the wall and take a step forward. I can smell the sweat pouring off of him and the blood running through his veins. I reach out my cold hand and place it lightly on his shoulder.

"Sam, what is your sin?"

He pulls away so quickly you'd think I burned him.

"How the Hell did you know about that? Just who the fuck are you?"

"What is your full name Sam?" My voice breaks halfway through the sentence back into a breathy whisper.

"The fuck do you care?"

"Do you want to escape this town or not?"

He falters for a second, allowing hope to glitter in his fearful eyes.

"Samuel Tovar."

The edges of my vision blur, and it's like I'm watching a film.

_A young girl with a bright yellow backpack is pedaling a bicycle down a deserted sidewalk. Honey hair is pushed back out of her face by the wind._

This is who I was.

_The facial features are unmistakable. A pretty face contorted by a look of blind fear. _

What happened to me?

_Time slows as the car swipes the bike and the girl (I can't bring myself to call her me; she's far too innocent) is sent tumbling towards the ground._

Then there is him.

_Her arm is badly twisted, broken, so he grabs her by the hair and throws her into the backseat of the car. She's crying, pleading him to let her go. He punches her so hard her nose breaks, a torrent of blood pours down her face and soaks into her delicate white shirt._

_I want to tear his miserable throat out as he calmly drives through a small town and into a deserted forest. She's in the backseat, clinging to consciousness and sputtering up blood between sobs. _

_The camp is deserted as the car rolls to a stop. He cuts the engine and climbs almost gracefully into the backseat. He locks the doors, making sure his actions are in full view._

_A torrent of blood, tears, and piss rush from her body as he pushes her down on the seats. He pulls off her soiled shorts and undergarments with a disgusted look on his face._

"_You bitch. I'm going to have to clean this whole mess up you know."_

"_Why me?" Her eyes are clenched shut, as if to will it all away. "Why are you doing this to me?"_

_He didn't give me an answer._

_I screamed and begged and pleaded as that son of a bitch violated me. I cried and spat and fought, but he only taunted me. Finally I just stopped moving, waiting for it to be over. _

"_I've watched you for so long," his disgusting breath was in my hair, his raspy voice frightened me more than I thought possible, "So, so _long_."_

_The last word comes out as a moan and moments later, he is off of me and dragging me from the car._

_My knees crack on the rough wood of the dock, but all my throat can manage is a hoarse croak. My entire body is on fire with pain, and I wished he would just fucking _finish_ it already._

"_How long did you think you could tease me from the shadows without me knowing, huh? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"_

_I didn't answer. I couldn't. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about, and I still don't. I never even looked at that disgusting piece of filth in my life._

"_Well," his chuckle was mirthless; a mix of madness and anger, "none of that really matters now. I got you in the end. You'll never be able to hide from me. Not ever again."_

_There was water, lots of it. I don't know if he knocked me unconscious or I just fainted myself. I was raped and murdered that night, and the innocence in me died._

_Then, I was reborn into this body; into this nightmare town. Born again with no memories, blissfully unaware of the events of that night. _

"Samuel Tovar." I repeat in a low voice.

"Did I stutter? Look bitch, are you going to help me out or not?"

I push my curtain of black hair away from my face and stare up at him with my hell darkened eyes.

He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't get the chance.

The siren rings through the town and the darkness is right on its heels. Dearest Sam is so smothered in shadow that he can't even protest as I roughly drag him through the blackened streets.

I suddenly know exactly where my executioner is.

The demons follow us through the streets, clawing, biting, and spitting on Sam the whole way. I can feel him writhe beneath my fingertips and grin.

"Why Sam, whatever is the matter?"

His choked scream of fear sends delicious shivers coursing through my body.

I never imagined that revenge could be this satisfying.

I throw the doors to the historical society open and descend into the depths. The pitch darkness swallows us both.

I note with extreme satisfaction the wet spot on the front of dear Sam's pants. I pick up the pace, nearly skipping to God's lair.

A hum of joy escapes my chest as I turn the knob to His door. I walk in reverently, head bowed, a small smile dancing on my lips.

I throw the slimy bastard against the wall and shackle him there with shadows.

"You are going to pay dearly for what you have done to me."

Adrenaline courses through Sam's veins one more time, "And what the _fuck_ are you going to do to me you cunt?"

_Screech_

His eyes widen in fear once again, and I bare my teeth in a malicious grin.

"I'm not going to touch you, you piece of filth."

I turn to the door and smile when I see Him stalk over to us.

I jump when I feel Him brush against me. I look up at him and smile, entwining our fingers together.

_Kill him my little Shadow._

I am all too eager to obey.

Sam's right arm is wrenched from his body by my shadows; the spray coats everything in blood. Sam shrieks, and I'm fairly certain its one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard.

The left arm goes next, then his left leg. All the pieces of him lay about the room; he is a dismembered nightmare doll.

A soon to be dead nightmare doll.

His right leg goes, and he hangs by the shadow noose around his neck. The gurgling sounds last for a minute before the torso stills and the room goes quiet.

_Quite the mess you've made of my room little Shadow._

I look up at my God. The marble statue of perfection I have longed to have for so long. I can't tell him I love him, he wouldn't understand the gravity behind those words.

"I want you."

The rust covered walls, the stagnant smell of blood, and the metallic screeches of the otherworld seem to fade away.

The flesh of God tastes sweeter that I ever imagined.

Until there is no need for us we will stalk the streets of Silent Hill. Until we cease to exist I will follow Him, and He will always peer into the shadows, looking for me, watching me.

It is a bittersweet ending.

I'll never get married, never have children, and never live out a normal life.

I'll never hear the person I love mumble 'I love you' when I'm held against his chest.

But, in the sleepless nights when He roars my name in the throes of passion, I know that I wouldn't want to live any other life but this.

I am His. He possesses every aspect of me, and I gladly succumb.

I am devout, unwavering in my loyalty to Him.

I am God's Shadow.

-0-

**Alright everyone, sorry about not updating in a while. I'm sorry this fic was so damn angsty! XD. It got a bit sappier at the end that I had originally wanted, but I think it's somehow fitting. I hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. **


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